Nostalgia
by GinTsuki
Summary: Reflections in an observation deck window, a sleeping Captain, an old memory and a rescue operation.
1. Observation Deck Window

**Nostalgia**

A Spock Prime Fan Fiction

* * *

**Beautiful Goodbye**  
by Amanda Marshall

_Fed up with my destiny  
And this place of no return  
Think I'll take another day  
And slowly watch it burn  
It doesn't really matter  
how the time goes by  
Cause I still remember you and I  
And that beautiful goodbye_

_We staggered through these empty streets  
Laughing arm in arm  
The night had made a mess of me  
Your confession kept me warm  
And I don't really miss you,  
I just need to know  
Do you ever think of you and I  
And that beautiful goodbye  
When I see you now  
I wonder how  
I could've watched you walk away  
If I let you down  
Please forgive me now  
For that beautiful goodbye_

_In these days of no regrets  
I keep mine to myself  
And all __the things__ we never said  
I can say for someone else  
Cause nothing lasts  
forever, but we always try  
And I just can't help but wonder why  
We let it pass us by_

_When I see you now  
I wonder how  
I could've watched you walk away  
If I let you down  
Please forgive me now  
For that beautiful goodbye_

_

* * *

_

The stars were like pin-holes in the pitch black curtain that separated the old Vulcan from the familiar. The glittering lights danced so far away, forever out of reach of his withered hands. He pressed one of his palms against the transparent aluminum, feeling the coolness of the vacuum beyond. What he would give to turn back the clock and look upon those distant planets with a scientific mind... to be young again… to turn around and see the smiling faces of his friends – his family.

"_I thought you said men like us don't have families_"

Spock closed his eyes, letting the memory of The Doctor flood his memory. Age seemed to layer nostalgia on everything, making everything so bittersweet in this new world. The Vulcan slowly lowered his hands from the observation window and nestled them behind his back. Leonard McCoy in this universe had the same dry wit that his McCoy had. He longed to start a argument on semantics or perhaps lack of professional ability, just for old times sake, but his younger self might become embarrassed at his inability to keep a straight face. Spock doubted his control in this strange environment filled with such familiar yet foreign faces. There were expressions he had not seen before.

Love on Uhura's face, that was new. He heard it in her songs, and occasionally directed at a lucky tribble… but at himself? He wondered where that relationship started, and he wondered where it would go. The future was so uncertain. That was the way it was meant to be… and yet he expected it to be the same. No… he _wanted_ it to be the same.

"_Course heading captain?_"

"_The second star to the right and straight on till morning…_"

He really was in Neverland; but then he was filled with happiness - reckless abandon at the idea of having no destination but good company. Now he felt like the only adult in a ship full of Lost Boys. James T. Kirk was not at his side. There was no one to reminisce with, no one who could possibly understand the sort of emotions he was fighting to keep deep in his soul. His ray of hope died a long time ago, and yet still breathed several floors above him on the bridge; coping with that fact was something the Vulcan struggled with every time his eyes rested on the young man's face - that smile that threw off all logic.

"_Well, what are the odds now?_"

"_Less the seven thousand to one, Captain. It's remarkable we've gotten this far…"_

"_Less then seven thousand to one? Well, getting better… getting better._"

Spock bowed his head. If he were human, there would be tears welling in his eyes, or a schoolboy grin on his face – he couldn't decide which. He still hadn't worked out all the complexities of human expression in the century of exposure; it was an achievement he feared he'd never obtain in his lifetime. It didn't help that his old friends were the worst teachers… feeling one thing and expressing another. Jim was always a fascinating man in that respect for he was guilty of constantly trying to hide himself behind his stripes. So human, and so close to his heart. A man full of life, yet willing to sacrifice it on a whim for something he believed in.

"_Now, Mr. Spock and I are going to go out there ... and quite probably die. In an attempt to show you ... that there are some things ... worth dying for._"

So maybe he was a little bit human. His face was twitching in an attempt to remain stoic. Spock raised his head to keep the moisture in his eyes were it belonged. He felt ashamed at how he was falling to pieces at ghosts of his past.

"_Do you know why you're not afraid to die, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out. That's it, isn't it? Insecurity. Why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling ._"

Did these memories constitute as warm, decent feelings? There was a lot of care in their recollection. They were perfectly preserved - shelved in the depths of Spock's mind for a night like tonight. Every echo of every word played on his heartstrings like Uhura's fingers on her harp. Perhaps it was healthy to uncover the things one keeps hidden every once in a while.

"_The release of emotions, Mr. Spock, is what keeps us healthy- emotionally healthy, that is."_

_"That may be, Doctor. However, I have noted that the healthy release of emotion is frequently very unhealthy for those closest to you._"

Spock turned around to see a young girl standing at the doorway to the observation deck. She was the only being in sight, but the sight of her alarmed the elderly Vulcan. Tears streamed down her face, it seemed that she had been silently crying for a while. Her eyes had been trained on the back of Spock's head, but now that he turned around she took a few tentative steps towards him.

The Vulcan was momentarily confused. Surely his Vulcan hearing had not degraded that poorly? Had she been weeping in the room he would have noticed…

The girl touched his arm, her face twisted in emotional agony. That's when he realized that she was physically expressing the turmoil that he was repressing at the core of his being. This child was an Empath. Knowing this, her condition horrified him. If he lost himself to these haunting memories, he would to reduced to what he saw before him.

He looked away, but the Empath tugged at his sleeve. Hesitantly he glanced back at her to see her scribbling in a small notebook. Spock raised a tentative eyebrow just as she handed him a hastily torn slip of paper with a simple phrase written upon it in blue ink.

"I envy you."

Spock's brow furrowed, then after a few moments it relaxed.

"_You see, I feel sorrier for you than I do for him, because you'll never know the things that love can drive a man to... the ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures, and the glorious victories. All of these things you'll never know, simply because the word "love" isn't written into your book._"

He looked to the girl and gave a faint smile. If his other self were around it would probably make him look away. The old Vulcan crouched slightly, his knees cracking as he made himself eye level with the child. "Do you know how to play chess, child?"

She nodded rigorously, the tears she shed for him now forgotten on her face.

Spock's subtle grin did not fade as he straightened himself out and took her small hand in his. "Let us pass the time with a game then. I used to be quite good, I haven't lost a game in decades. An old friend of mine used to taunt me for ages…" They strolled to the door slowly – Spock because of his age and the child because of her short legs. "He and I met one of your kind before. We called her Gem. We met her after travelling to the Minara system… which no one has probably discovered yet…"

Every Thursday his stories accompanied a chess match in which she would lose horribly. Sometimes a wayward Captain Kirk would stand outside of Recreation Room Three to hear snippets of the adventures he might one day face. He hoped that when those days came, Spock would always be there to be his loyal sidekick, or from the sounds of it, his savior.

* * *

**Author's Note**:

I just really wanted to write something for Spock. God, it must be lonely for him... literally living with the ghosts of his past. Even the most pleasant memories can hurt once you realize you'll never feel them again. Spock seems like the savoring type, so perhaps he's a tad OOC. I need to fix this up and add some more material, but its really late and I'm cutting into my sleeping schedule! Oh noes!

The song at the beginning is an oldy that most of you have probably heard before. I dare you to listen to it again and think of Spock Prime. My heart gets so heavy everytime it pops up on my iPod now. Go on! Listen to it! Someone make a music video out of it. You'd make more then one person cry.


	2. Sleeping Captain

**Nostalgia**

A Spock Prime FanFiction**  
**

* * *

**We Might as Well be Strangers  
**by Keane

_I don't know your face no more_  
_Or feel your touch that I adore_  
_I don't know your face no more_  
_It's just a place I'm looking for _

_We might as well be strangers in another town_  
_We might as well be living in a different world_  
_We might as well… we might as well…_

_We might as well… _

_I don't know your thoughts these days_  
_We're strangers in an empty space_  
_I don't understand your heart_  
_It's easier to be apart_

_We might as well be strangers in another town_  
_We might as well be living in a another time_  
_We might as well… we might as well…_

_We might as well be strangers_  
_Be strangers…_

_For all I know of you now_  
_For all I know of you now_  
_For all I know of you now_

_For all I know…_

* * *

The dim lighting was soothing to the elderly Vulcan, like a cold compress for an overheated mind. Pouring himself over an endless database of monotonous material was more taxing then he remembered it to be. Spock had to look away from the glowing console and blink a few times in order to regain the focus he was losing due to physical strain. Perhaps he required corrective lenses? The thought amused him for a moment before he returned to reading a report on the progress of New Vulcan.

Just as he found where he had left off, there came a quiet knock at his door. Due to the origin if the noise being rather low against the sliding panel, Spock speculated it was the little empath known as Gem. He had been avoiding her for several days, and yet she was relentless in her quest to obtain as many stories as she could from the old Vulcan.

Spock stood up slowly so that nothing important would crack as he made his way over to the door. It slid open to reveal the small angular face of the child, half hidden by the 3D chess set she was carrying. The hopeful look in her eyes made the Vulcan struggle to contain his guilt. "I sincerely apologize young one. I am preoccupied at the moment and can not play with you today."

Her eyes lowered and she stood there looking a little lost. When Spock said nothing further, she trudged away like a scolded pet and looked back occasionally with her wounded gray eyes. Spock thought it rather dramatic, but it still managed to press a small weight against his heart. Pieces from the chess set slid off some of the platforms and clattered to the corridor floor. Gem didn't bother to pick them up in her sad walk. Spock returned to his desk feeling worse then when he had originally sat down. It wasn't the girl's fault he was a busy diplomat adjusting to this strange new place. With a pang of emotion he recalled that here he had no home, nor anyone he could honestly call friend.

Spock slouched a few millimeters in his chair as he realized that he just had turned away the one creature that sought his attention during the last week. Upon that mental discovery, there came the sharp jolt of loneliness Spock had been hiding deep in his soul.

If he was desperate for company, there was himself to turn to of course; but those conversations were lack-luster and often frustrating to both parties. His younger self was still so conflicted with his duality that any form of expression the elder let slip would embarrass the First Officer into silence. Also, any question pertaining to the future was carefully avoided by Spock for fear of tampering with the boy's choices and leading him to miss something that sculpted him into the being he was now. It was best for them to be apart.

Then again, was he the perfect product? Already his past self was making very different choices in his life that he wouldn't have thought wise. This could lead to self improvement at a more efficient rate then in his universe. After all, this crew was established earlier then he would have calculated…

"_Is it possible that we two, you and I, have grown so old and so inflexible that we have outlived our usefulness?"_

Words spoken so long ago. A question that still burned in the back of his mind despite Jim's quick smile and warm hand on his shoulder; a cherished act from a century ago - and yet one that still lay decades ahead - for someone else. The concept made Spock reel. What he would give to be able to talk to that vibrant man again… just to organize his thoughts, maybe be the target of his easy laugh.

"_My friend is obviously Chinese. I see you've noticed the ears. They're actually easy to explain."_

"_Perhaps the unfortunate accident I had as a child._"

"_..The unfortunate accident he had as a child... He caught his head in a mechanical... rice picker._"

Spock smiled, wondering why that particular memory came back to him when there were a thousand others more appropriate to remember Jim by. The Doctor had laughed about the rice picker story until he had shed tears. For the next five Christmas parties, that tale was the highlight of the evening. Then Spock had been humiliated, but now it made his heart swell with affection. Every moment of stupidity, those precious seconds where the uniforms didn't matter... Spock treasured them more then anyone would ever know. Jim and McCoy were the only people who truly knew what was at the bottom of his Vulcan heart… and most especially, his human one.

"_Spock, you want to know something? Everybody's Human._"

What had he said to that?_ I find that remark insulting…? _It was his reflexive response to any statement containing the word 'human' that happened to be directed at him, back when his emotions on the subject were so very tender. The shame was buried so deep that when he looked at young Spock he shivered in recognition of it. What if he never accepted this Kirk? Would he be locked in his cold Vulcan cage for all eternity until, like his father, he died from the metaphorical 'bottle breaking'?

Maybe Uhura was his Kirk. The idea was hard for Spock to grasp. Even in the Mirror-verse his other self had aligned himself closely to Kirk, then why was there a gap? This sudden unexplained rift of tension? Maybe they just needed more time…

A chime interrupted Spock's thoughts and he looked to the door with a curious look. Gem could not yet reach the buzzer, therefore some other being had decided to take up his time. It was out of the ordinary; usually his company was avoided by the others for he was considered sagely, and not to be bothered by trivial matters. At least, that is what the elder had speculated. It could be that he radiated a feeling of strangeness - an aura that conveyed just how much he didn't belong in this universe. Spock thought this treatment ill-deserved, for all of his accomplishments meant nothing in this foreign, yet familiar, time.

"Enter" The Vulcan muttered as he returned to the documents he had sent to his PADD.

To Spock's surprise, the young Captain Kirk entered the room, a warm smile on his face and a bit of a roguish tilt to his head. The blond looked around and gave Spock a testing look, as if to figure out if he was being too nosy by admiring the décor – or lack there of.

Spock merely stood and eyed the younger version of his friend with some hesitation. He had not talked to Kirk face to face for several days, and now that the young man was present, Spock understood why. There was too much of _his_ Kirk in his expression… in the way he carried himself…

"What brings the Captain of the Enterprise to my quarters?"

The smile twitched as if sensing something in Spock's tone. He took a few steps towards the old Vulcan, his shoes lazily grazing the carpet with every stride. "I was passing through the mess hall when I spotted a little Minarian girl sulking in a corner. At her feet was a chess set missing several pieces. I didn't pay it any attention at the time but…" Kirk drew a pawn from his pocket and stared at it dramatically as if it were a clue to something important, "I found several of these littering the hallway. A serious health hazard really. In my task of picking them up, they led me to your door. You wouldn't have anything to do with this, would you Spock?"

Kirk was teasing him. Had he been his younger counter part, he might have felt uncomfortable in front of that knowing stare. However, Spock merely looked back to his PADD and answered, "I did not wish to entertain children tonight."

The smile died on the Captain's lips. "Is everything all right?"

"I am merely fatigued. My body isn't what it used to be." Still, Spock refused to look at him.

The captain frowned and set his hands on Spock's desk, "Maybe you should see Doctor McCoy. He has some pick-me-ups that could get your systems doing the tango. More then enough to get you prepped for a night of paperwork."

Kirk's humor merely made Spock put a withered hand to his forehead and sigh quietly. "McCoy's treatments never sat well with me. Perhaps a period of rest is in order."

This earned him the Captain's full attention as he reached out and gently tugged at the elder Spock's chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. The concern there made the Vulcan struggle to keep his emotions in check; though the baby blues staring a hole into his face were so different from the soft hazel in his memories, the need to touch and to care for was all too familiar. "Jim…" he stared, but then hastily corrected himself, "Captain, I believe you have more important things to do then worry about an old Ambassador in need of an afternoon nap."

"Something is bothering you. You don't like to look at me do you? You haven't made eye contact in weeks." Kirk's young face suddenly took on an expression normally donned by those much older and wiser. Spock was shocked at how the last few weeks seemed to have tamed the wild boy he found running for his life in a cave on Delta Vega. It was fascinating, so much so that the Ambassador was embarrassed to find he was focusing more on _who_ was talking to him, rather then _what_ was being spoken. To rectify the situation, he removed Kirk's hand from his face and watched him awkwardly bring it to his side.

"I had thought that you would… well… be curious as to how I am in comparison to the future me. Same with your younger self, I thought you'd be pestering him like an over-protective hen… and yet you lock yourself away in your room, only talking to a mute little girl on route to Starbase 22. Now you turn even her away. It has me worried Spock." He pulled up a chair to the other side of Spock's desk. "I was hoping you'd open up a little to an old friend."

The Captain's last statement put the elderly Vulcan on the defensive; this was _not_ his James T. Kirk. "It is none of your concern. Please do not let me distract you from your duties." Spock urged, wishing now that he had pretended he was unavailable when the Captain called.

"You should take your own advice. On your shoulders rests the task of re-creating Vulcan, and I'm willing to bet Bones' best bottle of Risa wine that that isn't the first thing on your mind." The smile came back, and cast a small ray of light in the gloom that seemed to radiate off of Spock.

The Vulcan looked to his PADD, then turned it off. "You sound like McCoy. At least, the McCoy I recall."

Kirk laughed, "I don't know whether or not I should take that as a compliment." The sound of his chuckling made Spock smile. The unfamilliar expression took Kirk by surprise and he blurted, "you are so different from the younger you. I don't think I could ever get him to smile."

"You will."

There was an awkward silence following that statement in which neither party knew what to say.

"You have grown these last few weeks James T. Kirk." Spock said, his years of diplomacy bringing an air of normality to their conversation. "I am glad to see the command chair seem so comfortable."

Kirk grinned faintly at the compliment, but the action didn't seem to reach his eyes. That was when Spock noticed the lines on the boy's face, the ones he knew weren't due to appear for several more years. There was the slight discoloration under his eyes as well, all signs that stress was eating this young man from the inside out. How did he fail to notice this when Kirk first stepped into his room?

It was that devilish smile that distracted him - that distracted all he chose to target. Spock wondered why he even bothered with Surak's teachings when a flash of teeth could mask all other emotions from ones face. Spock straightened and gave the young man one of his more intense stare-downs. "I retract my earlier statement and inquire on the subject your well-being. You look weary Jim."

Kirk ran a hand through his golden hair and sighed. "Its just… lonely you know? I'm surrounded by people all of the time, but no one has a moment to talk. Everyone is so busy now that we're in the world's spotlight. It feels like Starfleet is starching our uniforms and polishing our military grins for some galactic photo opportunity. I wouldn't put it past them either, since recruitment has been low after Nero slaughtered most of our cadets. There's only so much I can make perfect…" The more he talked the less and less energy exuded from his form, "I mean… Scotty is a damn miracle worker. Without him I'd be… well I'd be screwed to say the least; but he's so wrapped up in engines and his new job that I can't get a word in edge-wise. Bones can't chit-chat either since he was double promoted and is now doing the work of three people until M'Benga gets better and Nurse Chapel stops throwing up. Some sort of flu might I add… I wouldn't go anywhere near them for a few days."

Slowly the Captain slumped in his chair, his arms slowly creeping across Spock's desk space. "To be honest he wanted me to help him out with some of the paperwork but I ditched him to try and get some coffee from the mess. That's when I saw the little Minarian girl and thought of you. You and how you talk of how it used to be on the Enterprise - everyone leaning on each other like a big happy family. Right now I feel like Uhura wants to poison me and that your younger self is trying to correct my every move… or at least inquire about it." He paused to breathe while Spock got comfortable in his chair and acknowledged the man's problems.

"What you once had - or more correctly - _will_ have, takes a lot of trust. You can only establish that in time." Spock said soothingly as Kirk laid his head down on his gold-clad arms. His bright blue eyes were staring up at the Vulcan despite the awkward angle he put himself in.

"But I'm so sick of being the poster-child of the Federation. What I wouldn't give for a night on the town and some exotic dancers!" Jim exclaimed loudly. Spock knew the man was joking, but raised his eyebrow anyway. It made Kirk chuckle, "Never been Spock?"

"I once was your closest friend. That question does not need to be answered."

Kirk's curiosity was peaked now. "Where did I take you?"

There was a moment where Spock wondered if the information would be too important to share, but after some consideration the Vulcan decided to humour the man with an answer.

"Scotty, McCoy and yourself managed to convince me that going to an Orion Dance Hall would be good for my health. I remember a hypospray was involved, for I had not taken shore leave in over a year and McCoy warned me I'd be getting my rest one way or another."

The young Captain smiled as he closed his eyes to listen to Spock's soothing voice. It was his intention since entering the Ambassador's room to get a story from the Vulcan. Kirk never missed the opportunity to listen in on the tales he told Gem, and he was thankful he wasn't going to be without one tonight. The truth was, though he told Spock he was going to the mess for coffee earlier, he was really hoping to catch the Vulcan in a chess match with the child. It was a Thursday after all, and the first time Spock had failed to show up since he began the ritual a week ago. Kirk didn't know how much hearing about his future meant to him - until now.

"An Orion Club? Spock you dog you…"

"I admit, my knowledge of Orion dancing was very underdeveloped at the time and I was not ready for what awaited me there. A rather plump Orion woman had developed a strong emotional attachment to me which seemed as if it would escalate in to an event that could be detrimental to my well being. I recall attempting to evade the situation in its entirety by utilizing a bathroom window."

Kirk laughed, the atmosphere in the room seeming to embrace him; to lure him into a sense of security and belonging he hadn't felt in a long while.

"Unfortunately, Doctor McCoy had chosen that same moment to attempt to relieve himself in the stall I was currently using as a means of escape. It was a humiliating experience that I now find rather humorous in context. It was yet another story of the doctor's that he was fond of orating during formal events on the Enterprise – much to my chagrin."

Spock looked down to find the Captain had fallen asleep on his desk, his lips twisted into a warm smile. The elder's first instinct was to wake the young man, but something in the peaceful way Kirk unfolded over all the paperwork the Vulcan hesitate. Spock decided to give Jim an hour or two of a well-deserved rest while he continued to review the files he had created for the establishment and maintenance of New Vulcan.

With a slight twitch of his lips, Spock realized he went about his task with more vigor then when he had started. It was as if a spark had been struck in his soul. Spock was never alone. There was always a Kirk watching over him… physical or otherwise; it only took a gently snoring Captain to make him see.

* * *

Author's Notes

Thinking of making some more Spock Prime ficlets. The character fascinates me so much... since everything he feels must be so damn nostalgic; like living in one endless deva vu. Such a situation is so hard to grasp, which is why I love to get into the head of Old Spock. In this story I wanted to wrap myself around Kirk a little bit. In this storyline his Spock is aligned with Nyota, and I think that such a connection would make the bond between the Captain and Spock less strong. Spock isn't going to be watching the Captain like a hawk when he has a woman on the side... so Kirk will be free to run himself ragged. Which he would given the circumstances. The Enterprise is in the limelight right now... the stress level aboard must be ridiculous.


	3. Old Memory

**Nostalgia**

A Spock Prime FanFiction

* * *

**Hurt**  
by Johnny Cash

_I hurt myself today  
to see if I still feel  
I focus on the pain  
the only thing that's real  
the needle tears a hole  
the old familiar sting  
try to kill it all away  
but I remember everything_

_What have I become?  
my sweetest friend  
everyone I know goes away in the end  
and you could have it all  
my empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt_

_I wear this crown of thorns  
upon my liar's chair  
full of broken thoughts  
I cannot repair  
beneath the stains of time  
the feelings disappear  
you are someone else  
I am still right here_

_What have I become?  
my sweetest friend  
everyone I know  
goes away in the end  
and you could have it all  
my empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt_

_if I could start again  
a million miles away  
I would keep myself  
I would find a way._

_

* * *

_

The lights of recreation room three flickered intermittently as the Enterprise passed through the Nolor nebula on route to Reimers I. Captain James T. Kirk didn't let the unsteady illumination break his concentration as his hazel eyes locked onto his opponent's queen. "You know, I think you're going easy on me this time Spock." The man moved his rook to take the target and smirked as his First Officer furrowed his brow.

"I am Vulcan Captain. I do not repress my skills; to do so would be illogical." Spock looked over the board with a sharp analytical eye, his forehead now smooth as he calculated his next tactic. Gently the Vulcan plucked Kirk's pawn from the board, and with a grace that demonstrated agility bred from hours of working with delicate devices, he then switched the piece with his bishop.

Kirk smiled at his Science Officer with a fondness that made a small part of Spock feel at ease, while the other portion couldn't help but squirm. Their eyes locked as Spock settled back into his proper sitting posture. There was a moment where Spock felt as though he were tettering on the edge of a cliff, and it was not the first time. Those warm hazel orbs were drawing him in like the gravity of a large sun. Would he let himself fall?

"Of course. Logic fits into any equation when it comes to you, Spock." The Captain leaned back, crossed his arms and took a moment to look around the room - a maneuver he often did to mull over his next move. Spock relaxed and used this time to study his Captain; a habit that seemed to have evolved now that the chess matches were sinking into routine. Just what was it about this man that skewed all logic?

Was it the confidence? One had to possess the trait to be a starship Captain, so such a quality was only a fraction of what _made_ the man. Perhaps it was the way those lips were always ready to warp into a smile? Or the way his hands always seemed to want to touch and to manipulate… to be a part of something greater. Spock slowly shifted his gaze to the chessboard to get his mind back onto the game. It was too easy to wax poetic about his closest friend, and if Spock wasn't too careful the man would drag out his human heart and make it bleed; after all, Humans had that effect on each other. McCoy was a prime example.

"Checkmate in ten."

Spock looked up from the hands that just finished their move. He was about to comment cooly about his Captian's arrogance, but a shock of blue distracted him. The eyes that were greeting him across the table were bright blue, and that wasn't right, his captain's eyes were the hazel he was used to, not this... not this at all.

The Vulcan put a hand to his angular face as if to rub away the illusion before glancing back to the Captain in awe. The color was gone. It must have been a trick of the lights.

"Spock? Are you alright?" Concern laced Jim's words as he set his hands on the table, ready to rise at the first sign of trouble - as always.

The First Officer attempted to recover by shaking his head in a very human gesture, which only preceded to make the man more worried. "Merely preoccupied Captain. For a moment I thought I was experiencing a hallucination. In retrospect it may be the effect of the shifting lights... I would not waste time concerning yourself with the issue." Spock blinked a few times then turned towards the board, "I do not believe you have the upper hand in this game Captain. I challenge your prediction." Spock made his move, but it was a bad one, and they both knew it.

"If you insist Mr. Spock.." His First Officer's bravado did nothing to wipe the worry playing across Kirk's face. His tone wasn't even hiding his intentions of watching Spock like he was expecting the Vulcan to drop dead any second. He didn't have long to wait, for as soon as Kirk finished moving his pawn to another level, Spock's eyebrows shot to his hairline.

His hands. They were old.

Wrinkles made a fleshy network over arthritic knuckles. Spock could see the deep green veins criss-crossing beneath his own pale papery skin. The sight made his fingers twitch and his eyes slide out of focus. "What- what is happening to me?" The Vulcan went to look up into the eyes of his best friend, but what awaited him there made his breath catch.

"No…"

The table, the game, James T. Kirk, were all frozen as if someone poured down liquid nitrogen from the heavens. The Enterprise had dissolved into an endless plain of snow and ice; a world that was his own personal hell. No Vulcan sun warmed his withered face and there was no one alive to smile for him, to feel for him, to understand him. Only the silent statue of his dead best friend and a melting planet high in the hazy blue sky… a home that never was.

The shock of a billion kindred souls screaming out in agony, that was just a dagger twisting into his gut. Ice sculptures of Vulcan children with faces full of unsuppressed fear ruptured the ground, creating a circle around the frozen form of his captain. Soon millions of others joined the silent graveyard standing the frigid landscape of Delta Vega. His kinsmen, slaughtered in a genocide brought about by _his_ mistake. Lost lives that would haunt him to the end of his days. All because of _him_.

"NO!"

Spock ripped off his sheets and vaulted from his bed, forgetting in his disorientated state that he was an old man and not meant for such theatrics. His knee stiffened and he barely managed to throw out his arms to catch himself as he tumbled to the cold floor. He laid there shivering and _c_onfused, until some part of his mind informed the rest of his consciousness that he was suffering the after effects of a terrible nightmare.

He was in the process of pulling himself off the floor when a very gentle and rhythmic knock come from the direction of his door. Spock didn't even feel the need to wonder who it could be. Beyond that door could only be one person. The elder's voice tried to keep itself from trembling as he permitted the figure to enter.

Young Spock looked to his older counterpart with eyes full of emotion. No words needed to be spoken, for both Vulcans had the same discoloration beneath their cold brown eyes. The First Officer sat down with a clumsy sort of grace that hinted at the turmoil he was facing within, while the Ambassador merely wandered like a ghost over to the replicator and croaked for a glass of water.

"I heard… or rather, _felt_ your mind as I was passing." The younger Spock whispered as if ashamed to admit it. He glanced to Spock Prime and watched as the man slowly drained his glass. When the Ambassador made no move to interject, the officer continued. "I-I…was..." - or at least he _tried_ to continue.

Spock Prime sat across from his alternate self, feeling better now that he was awake and in control of his surroundings. "You wish to speak to me. It is written on your face - or should I say _my_ face?" His lips twitched into a sagely smile that made the younger look away.

"This is an anomaly I do not think I could become accustomed to."

The Vulcan elder tilted his head slightly, a fleeting memory of watching himself cry over the death of his pet sehlat I-chaya made him murmur, "Do not worry so much Spock, you will have practice." This was not the first time Spock had been sent back in time; though when he utilized the Guardian of Forever, that had been only a _visit_ to the past – not a one way ticket. Then he only had to save his younger self, and he killed his childhood companion in the attempt. This time he nearly murdered an entire race. How could he justify his existance in this strange new world? His presence has caused nothing but pain.

"Your mind touches mine every time I close my eyes." The younger Spock started. "I see the destruction of my home over and over again as if stuck in a cycle of horrors that will not end. It affects me so… so _terribly_. I cannot meditate, nor can I attempt to suppress these emotions that terrorize my defenses." He looked up to the elder and silently pleaded with his eyes. "You need to keep your thoughts to yourself."

Spock Prime bowed his head, "I am older and wiser my young friend. My mind has many forces keeping it in check. This night is one of three instances on the Enterprise where my mental shields have failed to encompass the pain held deep within." He held out a shaky hand to gently touch the bags under the first officer's eyes. "That is not enough to cause you this insomnia you're encountering. Tonight is not the first night you have stalked the corridors like a ghost in the night. I do not need to touch Uhura to hear the worry her eyes spell out when she looks at you. Our pain stems from two hearts, not one."

Obviously this was not what the First Officer wished to hear. "I keep seeing her… my mother… falling." His voice was level but his face was wavering between ultimate sorrow and the Vulcan mask he usually wore.

It was difficult trying to find the words to say; even for an experienced diplomat. "She would be proud of you Spock. You know more then anything that she would not think her death as your failing. She would have seen it as a reassurace of your survival. You saved your father and those responsible for keeping the essence of Vulcan alive and well. She witnessed you save an entire culture. A culture she loved as she loved you and Sarek."

There were no tears, but there was a tightness that wouldn't abate in young Spock's throat. "You knew her well. Did she die an old woman in your time?"

"Yes."

Spock nodded and took a long deep breath. Spock Prime hesitated, uncertaintly making him appear momentarily frail before he stared his younger self in the eye and asked, "Would you like to see her as I knew her?"

There was a moment of tension, as if both parties knew that what was asked was wrong. The memories offered were of another time and place that no one would ever see or touch again. It was a long while before the young Vulcan broke the silence. "I thank you for the option. It means… a lot." He stood from the chair, stretching himself to his full height. He seemed less worn out then when he had entered, as if he sapped some of the strength from his elder form. "Perhaps I will take you up on your proposal in the future - out of scientific curiosity. I am content remembering mother as _I_ knew her..." The young man's lips twitched into a very small smile. "She would have wanted it that way."

Spock Prime echoed his own young smile and repeated a statement the First Officer never thought he would hear again.

"_Spock. As always, whatever you choose to be, you will have a proud mother._"

* * *

Author's Notes

So... by the looks of things, this is developing into a series of ficlits that revolve around Spock Prime. The song used is pretty much perfect for Spock, if you look it up on YouTube you might be lucky to find the Star Trek Music video using it. I'm developing quite the Spock Prime playlist! I have another song that I'm thinking of using... I just need to make a story that goes along with it.

Reviews will be appreciated! If there's anything off, please tell me. I don't think this chapter is as emotional as the others... so I'll have to make up for it next time.


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